


Professor Evans

by steve_it_only_hurt_a_little_rogers



Series: The Author is Being Self indulgent and Borderline Creepy [13]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: College Professor Chris, College Student Reader, Established Relationship, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-06 01:22:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10322303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steve_it_only_hurt_a_little_rogers/pseuds/steve_it_only_hurt_a_little_rogers
Summary: I just saw this picture of the reason I will never find true love, looking like a college professor with the books and the glasses and the hair in his most recent Esquire shoot and...What if Chris Evans was your drawing class professor?





	

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.google.com/amp/www.esquire.com/entertainment/news/gmp3272/chris-evans-cover-shoot/
> 
> It's number 3

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Excellent work, Ms. (Y/L/N)."

Chris smiled proudly at the drawn figure hanging on your easel and then down at you, while patting you on the back. He let each pat linger and your cheeks burned. Then you looked away. He knows he's not allowed to touch you in front of everyone! Chris realized the line he crossed and stepped away from your area.

“You all did excellent work today!" Professor Evans beamed at his students, “Keep it up!"

The class started chattering in excitement. You fought back a smirk.

Everyone in the art department loved pleasing Dr. Evans, and you didn't blame them. He was talented _and_ hot. The man _classically_ trained in _Europe_ of all places. He nearly outperformed the masters in skill, travelled all over the world while getting his doctorate, and could (and has) teach every visual, graphic, and history class offered in the college of fine arts.

Of course because being extremely talented and cultured wasn't enough, he also looked like an ancient god reincarnated, from his superhero torso proportions to his perfectly defined muscles. Which he always showed off by wearing unfairly tight shirts and jeans.

On top of _that_ his eyes were the perfect shade of stormy blue, his longish dark brown hair was always perfectly parted and slicked back, and his soft, plump lips were always surrounded by his well-groomed full beard.

Only you had the privilege of knowing the man behind the intimidatingly good looks, brains, and talent however. You two met in a class you took together last semester. You needed it for your degree. He needed to keep his public school teaching license. You got partnered up for a project and the rest was a friendship turned romance.

Unfortunately, this semester you needed to take a figure drawing class to graduate. Chris' section was the only one still open, so you two had to put the brakes publicly on your blossoming relationship to avoid your peers claiming favoritism. You respected that right now, you were his undergraduate student first and his girlfriend second. Sometimes even more than he did if you were being honest. 

“Have a good weekend everyone," he said, “And I want to see fifteen more hands and feet in your sketchbooks on Tuesday!"

You threw your backpack on your shoulder and started for the door when a deep, concerned voice called you back.

“Hold on, Ms. (Y/L/N). I want to speak with you."

You froze. That wasn't a boyfriend “I want to speak with you." That was a teacher “I want to speak with you." You turned around to see, Chr-Dr. Evans leaning on his desk. In his hands was the sketchbook assignment given the previous class period. You swallowed hard at the frown your teacher wore and the slight disappointment in his eyes as he looked up at you over his glasses. You came to stand in front of him.

“Y-yes, sir?"

Your professor held up the rushed full body self portrait you drew at ten o'clock last night. You looked down, but, Chris, lifted your chin up.

“This is not what you're capable of, (Y/N)," he said calmly, “I know it. I've seen you do amazing work, like today."

“I'm sorry, sir...it's been a stressful couple of weeks," you apologised with burning cheeks, “I haven't made the time for studio classes. But I'll redo it."

Chris searched your eyes for a minute longer before dropping his hand and handing you your sketchbook. His face was unreadable as he held your hands under your book.

“I know you will, but let me give you some pointers."

He stood up to full height, took off your bookbag, and pushed his black framed square glasses up further on his nose. Then he started talking with his hands, pointing out each thing he listed.

“The facial structure is off. Your eyes are bigger and slightly closer together than you drew. Your nose is more centered. Your lips are fuller and softer..."

He ran his fingers gently over the feature in question before cupping your cheek and leaning down to press his lips against yours. Chris made a noise of contentment. You hesitated. It had been a couple weeks since you two got a chance to talk about things other than class, let alone be intimate. But his next class was due in soon.... Chris didn't give up though, and his hands cupped your chest, kneading the soft flesh through your crop top.

“You didn't truly capture the fullness of your breasts," he said before capturing your lips again. 

His hands went up your shirt and you gasped at the skin contact. Chris smirked, using the opportunity to deepen your kiss. You half-heartedly fought back while his tongue caressed yours and he pushed your top up, exposing your chest.

“ _Professor Evans_..." you whispered against his mouth, trying to remind him of the current surroundings, “We shouldn't..."

“I won't tell anyone, Ms. (Y/L/N)," he grunted, moving his lips to the underside of your jaw, “This'll be our little secret."

“Chris..."

“Keep calling me Professor? Please?"

You looked down at him with a raised eyebrow. He glanced up at you with lust filled eyes and a smirk before burying his face between your breasts. You fought back giggles and moans at the same time since his lips just wrapped themselves around one of your nipples. A naughty teacher kink? Really? Your question was completely answered as his hands traced slowly down your torso. 

“The curve of your waist and hips are so much more pronounced..." he muttered, “...the lines of your pelvis lead perfectly down to- _fuck_ , _baby_!"

He let his fingertips brush feather light over the 'v' of your hips. When he started hiking up your skirt, your hips involuntarily rolled against the straining bulge in his jeans.

“I'm s-oh!"

He cut you off by picking you up and bending you over his wooden desk. You felt your skirt bottom lifted, showing your butt to the world. Chris started breathing heavily and tracing the waistband of your underwear. The rough fabric covering his cock brushed over your skin every now and then in his efforts to control himself. 

“(Y/N), tell me if you really _don't_ want to right now," he pleaded, “Because I really, really _do_."

You briefly assessed how he was now nearly dry humping your butt, how hot your skin felt underneath his shaking hands, and your soaking wet underwear.

“Make it fast, Professor-OH!" 

He clapped a hand over your mouth and leaned over to your ear. You moaned again as his cock slid deeper into you and, Chris, tightened his grip.

“Quiet, baby. You wanna get caught?" he hissed.

You shook your head no, but the way your inner walls clenched and more slick ran out of you ruined your facade. You felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment, but instead of pulling away, Chris, just smirked.

“Or maybe you _do_? " he asked, “I know what most of the department thinks about me..."

He started moving his hips, quickly building up a hard, steady rhythm that sent you bumping against his desk with every thrust. You squirmed trying to meet him thrust for thrust, but your boyfriend, ever the control freak during sex held you still with his free hand.

“Maybe you want someone to come in and see you fucking _Professor Evans_? You want them to see you bent over _my_ desk reminding you who you belong to?"

You laid your head on the table and let his words sink in as his cock did the same over and over, each thrust harder than the last. The pleasure fueled coil in your belly curled tighter and tighter. Chris huffed and slapped your butt.

“I asked you a question, Ms. (Y/L/N). I expect an answer," he scolded, “Don't make me have to _punish_ you..."

He slowed down right as you were on the edge. You let out a muffled cry and he took his hand from your mouth, setting it on your hips instead while the other one went to your clit.

“Oh, Chr-Professor Evans, please?!" you begged.

“Please _what,_ miss?"

“Let me come all over _your_ cock? Please I wanna so bad!"

Chris pulled out only long enough to turn you around to face him and then he slammed back into you. You dug your fingers into his shoulders as started brushing against and then finally hitting your g-spot with his cock. He wrapped your legs around his waist and sat you back so he could see your face.

“Open your eyes, baby. Look at me, (Y/N)," he asked.

You did as you were told and awe started edging into his gaze. He rubbed small, hard circles into your clit and you came, clawing at his back and moaning his name.

Feeling like jelly, you laid down on his desk and watched in complete satisfaction as he chased his own climax. He pulled you closer to him by your hips, sheathing himself to the hilt inside you and moving faster.

“Good girl," Chris sighed over and over, “Such a good girl..."

A couple of thrusts later, you felt him stiffening and throbbing inside you while his movements grew more erratic. You sat up and ran your hands through his hair, pulling on it a bit while you kissed and nipped along his whiskered jawline.

“You feel so good, _Professor_..." you whispered, “Your big cock fucks my tight cunt so good, makes me so wetmmm..."

Chris grabbed you by the hair and pulled you up to his lips. He started rubbing your over sensitive clit and you came again at the same time he did, your cries muffled by each other's mouths. 

“You good?" he laughed after a minute.

“Yes...thank you," you smiled.

Chris nuzzled your nose and let you down. He smoothed down your clothes, held your hands, and let you know how beautiful you looked. Your cheeks heated up and you thanked him again.

“Save that for when I'm relaxing you more tonight," he winked, holding you close to him, “You're coming home with me after the gallery opening, right?"

“Well, I will need a ride after my friends will be conveniently missing in pick up duty."

You winked at him and kissed his cheek before bending down to get your backpack off the floor. Chris smiled when you stood back up, and kissed your cheek before giving you your sketchbook. You heard a couple of people coming up the stairs and started for the door. Chris waved goodbye with a dopey grin on his face.

“I'll see you later, Ms. (Y/L/N). Keep practicing."

“See you, Professor Evans."

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at: steve-it-hurt-a-little-rogers.tumblr.com


End file.
